


El Clásico

by marcoasensio



Category: Men's Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Gang AU, M/M, barcelona, gangster au, injuries, real madrid - Freeform, warning: character death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-11
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-08-22 03:15:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16589795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marcoasensio/pseuds/marcoasensio
Summary: This tells the story of Spain's greatest gang rivalry: Barça and Real Madrid. When Barça threatens to kidnap one of Real's own after their base burned down, the war between these two gangs starts the spark of a ticking time bomb.Iker/Sergio and Toni/Lucas centric.P.S. I revised some things and it's crucial to the story. If you're a new reader, ignore this message, but if you're a returning one, I'm sorry but may I suggest you start from chapter one? It's unprofessional I know, and I apologize- but some mistakes, plot holes, or nonsensical concepts are only apparent after rereading the same thing again for the 5,000th time.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! This chapter is just a sneak peak to what's coming! This is my first series, so I hope you enjoy it and if you have time, drop off some comments! Writers live off comments, honestly!
> 
> Also just a (late) warning, I know the summary for this involves Barca and I PROMISE you Barca will appear. They will play an incredibly crucial role in the lives of the Real boys, but patience is virtue. The first few chapters touch Atletico and Real's rivalry, but that is just to establish character, set up the atmosphere, and give the upper hand to Real. I think it's obvious Real would be the less dominant team in the beginning of the war due to one of their own being threatened by Barca, but I don't want that to be Real's image implanted in your minds, which is why I'm writing about Atletico, an obviously weaker team.

This was not how it's supposed to end.

That was what went on in Iker's mind as he held onto Sergio's trembling hand with his left, his right busy with the gun. He had trained for this moment his entire life, Iker, practically since he was, what, 8? And to finally be able to prove himself– more importantly, with the purpose of getting Sergio out of his captors' grasp, Iker couldn't be happier. Of course, the nervousness was still ever so present.

But it was never meant to end this way. There weren't supposed to be any collateral damages, one of his men shouldn't be dead, and the dead man's boyfriend shouldn't be  _physically_ constrained to prevent him from singlehandedly killing these bastards; or worse, hurting himself.

Taking a deep breath, Iker steadied himself.  _"One..."_

He squeezed Sergio's hand.  _"Two..."_

 _I love_ _you_ , he whispered.  _"Three..."_


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *EDITED* No action yet. Deeply looks into Iker/Sergio. Grazes Toni/Lucas slightly. Also, watch out for foreshadowing!

“Hey, Iker!”

Iker’s head snapped up, the man across him greeting him with a big, toothy grin. His gray vest, to no one’s surprise, was messy and unorganized. One of the ends was perfectly tucked into his beige pants, but the other was dangling out. Iker normally wouldn’t tolerate that kind of slopiness, but the kid was still so young he couldn’t bring himself to scold him. “Anything wrong, Lucas?”

Lucas shook his head. “The opposite. I have some good news!” He said, a grin plastered on his face. However within seconds it dropped confusedly, Lucas squinting his eyes in the process. “Well  _ I _ don’t have good news, but Marce does! He asked me to send you to him. I don’t know what it’s about, but I’m hoping he would tell me! But I think he’d only do that if-”

“Lucas,” Iker interrupted him. He was amused, truth be told. “You’re rambling again.”

“I am, aren’t I? I’m so sorry,” the youngster facepalmed himself, cringing. “Oh, if Isco were here he’d make fun of me so badly.”

“Lucas, you were saying…”

“Right!” Lucas snapped his finger. “Marce said something about Barcelona’s security system breach, but he told me to send you to him for further info. He’s in the briefing room already, with Cris and Sergio.”

Iker sucked on his lips in interest, his attention caught by the togetherness of the word ‘Barcelona’ and ‘security breach’ in one sentence. He could also feel his heart slightly race at the mention of his boyfriend’s name, and even though it was a bit immature, in a world where he was forced to grow up too fast, a little bit of childishness never hurt. The mafia boss smiled up at his junior, thanking him.

“No problem boss,” Lucas returned the smile shyly. “I’m always here when needed.”

“We know, kid.”

* * *

“Boss,” Marcelo nodded at him once he entered the briefing room. Iker counted the gesture, though his feet brought him to Sergio’s side. He smiled softly at the Sevillan, hand ruffling his golden hair. Sergio took Iker’s other free hand and placed it above his own, stroking it with care. Marcelo took notice of this and from across the room, he rolled his eyes and groaned. “Come on, the PDA can wait. We’re here for an official business meeting aren’t we,  _ famed gang leader and lead advisor _ ?”

Marcelo emphasized the last part, each syllable stretched. Iker did his best to hide a chuckle, taking a seat next to Sergio. “Tell me more about this Barcelona security breach.”

“A few days ago Coentrao was preparing for the Atleti mission, and he noticed a pattern in codes. Turns out, the system Atleti uses is similar to the one Barcelona does, without anyone really knowing- not even them, considering the fact that they haven’t had an impressionable attack in years,” Marcelo explained, fixing his glasses. “Basically, the essence of their security is the same. So the kid figured, if the one in Atleti can be broken by a virus created by us, then surely that same virus could be utilized to hack into Barcelona’s security cameras? We tested it out, and the son of a bitch was right! Fabio, being the tech genius that he is.”

Cris turned to Iker the second Marcelo finished talking. Within seconds, three pairs of brown eyes were all on him, all rooted with curiosity and wonder, depending on their leader to make the call. “So, what’s the plan, boss?”

“You said we’ve already hacked into their security cameras and system?” Iker asked for reassurance from Marcelo, who nodded eagerly. A smile crept unto his face. “Then I say we attack.”

* * *

The night after, Iker sneaked his way into his and Sergio’s shared master bedroom. It was one in the morning already, so Iker was pretty confident Sergio would be asleep. He didn’t want to wake the younger man up, no. Sergio becomes… threatening when awakened in an ‘unreasonable hour’. It didn’t help either that he was such a light sleeper. So Iker had to tiptoe his way in, making sure he made no sound.

To his surprise, Sergio was awake, sitting on the edge of the bed. Iker’s features softened upon seeing his bare, tattooed back, painting the stories that shaped him into the man he was. Iker’s heard these tales from Sergio himself, and to sugarcoat everything, it wasn’t pleasant.

“Hola, nene,” Iker brushed his hand against Sergio’s shoulder, taking a seat beside him. With the help of the reflective moonlight, he could make out Sergio’s expression- he was scared, this time. Deep in thought. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Sergio answered curtly. But all it took was a three-second stare from Iker before Sergio broke down. Never one to keep secrets, the boy. “Okay, fine. I was thinking about the whole Barcelona scheme.”

“Why?” Iker questioned.

“Well, it’s going to be my  _ first _ huge operation involving them, Iker,” Sergio said, making gestures with his hands. So, he was distressed as well. “I’ve done petty little crimes against Barcelona countless times. Hell, I see that Pique as if he were one of us. But it’s never been anything this huge, and honestly, I’m scared.”

“You don’t have to be, chiquito,” Iker attempted to comfort him. Emotional areas were never his strong suit, but ever since he and Sergio started dating, Iker’s attempted to graze upon feelings and emotions. Mainly because Sergio had a lot of it to show. “I’m here to protect you, and so is the rest of Real.”

“I know that,” replied Sergio. “It’s just… I’m not like you. Or Cris, or Marce, Gareth, Toni, James. I wasn’t raised to work in a gang, to fight against the law. I’m a lot like Lucas too, you know, that’s why I’m close to him. If my brother could see me now I’d guarantee he would be disappointed in me. I grew up hearing stories about Real Madrid and Barcelona. I grew up learning to fear them- to fear  _ you _ . I used to get nightmares about the same exact thing I would be walking right into if I do go on with this Barcelona scheme.”

“What are you saying?” Iker raised his voice. The last sentence sparked a little bit of anger inside him. Surely, Sergio wasn’t asking Iker to cancel this whole operation? He’d waited his entire life to take down Barcelona, and this could be his chance.

“No- I didn’t mean it  _ that _ way,” Sergio stretched the second to last word. “Of course I still want you going on with this Barcelona operation, you’ve worked almost your entire life towards this, who am I to stop you? I’m just saying, Iker, maybe don’t involve me as much in this?”

Iker nodded. He was disappointed, but he can’t say no to Sergio. “I understand, Sese. I’ll be sure to not give you on-the-field jobs.”

“Thanks for understanding, Iker,” Sergio smiled faintly at him. “I appreciate it. I still want to go on that pre-Barcelona heist against Atleti you’re planning though, sounds fun.”

“Anything for you love,” Iker muttered, climbing to his side of the bed. Sergio followed his movement, and not long after, they were both cuddled on the white-sheeted bed, enjoying each other’s company and embrace. It was nights like these Iker would kill for, nights like these in which he would momentarily wish he wasn’t the heir to one of the two biggest gangs in all of Spain. 

Because if he weren’t, he’d have millions of nights alone with Sergio, free from the constant suspicion that Barcelona’s men were standing right outside the door to kill them, free from the sudden coldness of the gun under his pillow he abruptly woke up to every night after he would unintentionally graze its surface. Free from crime, free from evil. 

But he would never have that.

* * *

Toni enjoyed staring at Lucas. It was weird, and Marco and Isco made it  _ clear _ to the German that it was, indeed, odd. But Toni just couldn’t help it- perhaps it had to do with the sufficient lack of emotions Toni felt throughout his childhood, and now that he found himself feeling these things, it was like trying to befriend a stranger you met at the streets.

Besides, Lucas was beautiful. He had these dark, beautiful eyes that shone so damn brightly, Toni couldn’t bear looking at them. It was ironic, because it contrasted Toni’s sky blue eyes which were usually dull and abstractly dark. Toni thought about it once at night, that he and Lucas should switch eye colors- it would be more fitting.

He also had a booming laughter which filled the whole room with joy. Every time Toni hears it, it felt like confetti being thrown all over the room. It was light, with an underlying tone of humor and mischief. Toni saw, observed, how the mood of the whole room would sometimes change too when Lucas walked in. It didn’t just radiate off Toni, but everyone else too.

It reminded Toni of a younger Sergio. The Sergio that hadn’t been lacerated by the horrors of the gang life. By the blood, murder, and torture he’d witness, and endure. By the harsh truth of the world and how it works. The Sergio he grew up with during Real’s early years when Raul and Guti were the kings of Madrid.

And it scared Toni. It scared him, because the brightness and vibrancy in Lucas could disappear once he’s risen through the ranks and finally work on the field as a regular. Toni didn’t want Lucas to lose that part of him, not when he’s  _ this _ young, only 24 years of age. Toni knew Iker was planning to drift Lucas off to the next pre-Barcelona scheme, and if Toni had any idea how to stop it, he would.

But by doing that, Toni would serve as a barricade, preventing Lucas from reaching his ambitions and potential. So Toni let it happen, and only time could tell whether or not ignorance really is bliss.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang gets ready for a pre-Barca scheme, and Cris and Iker have an important talk about their youngster.

By the time morning came, they were all gathered in the briefing hall preparing for a small mission, taking them to the other side of Madrid and surprise the army of red and white. It was their pre-Barcelona scheme. Iker had called up six of them, including Sergio and himself for the task. Lucas, Cristiano, and Marcelo were starting, and Gareth was their getaway driver.

Toni noticed that Lucas’ palms were sweaty and that he spoke less than normal. He couldn’t help but feel a twinge of worry rise in his chest. Being unfamiliar with this gut-wrenching feeling, he approached Iker.

“Iker, can you take care of him?” Toni found himself telling- begging- the captain, bobbing his head in Lucas’ direction. Iker looked at him with curious, interested eyes. “He’s so… small, and young.”

“I’ll be sure,” was Iker’s response, tightening his lips in a light smile. When Toni stayed quiet and didn’t say anything else, he returned back to Sergio, continuing their hearty conversation. Toni felt his heart drop. As long as Sergio’s with him, the captain had no care for anything else in the world. He wouldn’t even prefer Real Madrid over Sergio, what was so special about Lucas that Iker needed?

“You know, I think I should come with,” Toni suggested monotonously. Iker reverted his attention back to the blond, disbelief washed in his face. From behind him, Toni could see Sergio grimacing, giving him a light shake to the head.

“Toni,” Iker said sternly. “Do you not trust me with Lucas? He’s a kid, of course I’ll protect him. My job is to  _ protect _ you guys. I know you care deeply for him, but you can’t keep babying him forever- he needs to grow, and you need to learn to let go.”

“Fine,” Toni huffed, before squinting his eyes, cold and icy blue as ever. “But if anything happens to him…”

“I won’t hear the end of it, even though I’m your boss,” Iker completed his sentence with an eye roll. “You’ve said this in his previous six missions. Did he ever manage to get injured then? No. He’s skilled and talented, Toni. Trust him, please?”

Toni only gave him a half-assured nod, walking away with distrust. Iker sighed. That German- he rarely loves, but once he does, he’s completely into it. He’s like a sports car going a hundred miles per hour; cannot be stopped abruptly. Not even Iker was as lovestruck as him, and it’s  _ Iker Casillas _ we’re talking about. The guy who abandoned Real’s traditional laws for love.

Iker whistled, the momentum creating a sound that blared in everyone’s ears. The white noise died down eventually, and was replaced by silence. Iker’s booming voice filled the void. “Listen! We’ll be departing soon. If you need anything, ask Toni, he’s in charge. Protocols are as usual. If we need backup, I’ll send a quick 911 text and I expect you to arrive in forty minutes. It’s only the other side of Madrid, not Barcelona.”

The room erupted in a chorus of comprehension, satisfying Iker. When the majority of people had already dispersed, the Mafia boss slung the equipments bag over his shoulder, his comrades mimicking his actions seconds after. Sergio followed beside him with pride, chest heaved up high. Marcelo and Cristiano were smiling and joking around, but surely keeping their cool, which always seemed like their default state. Gareth, as usual, was quiet, preferring to stick with his iPhone and AirPods. Despite these differences in manner, they all carry the same air of confidence with them. Lucas, on the other hand, trailed behind the five of them like a lost puppy, his doe-y chestnut eyes filled with admiration and excitement. Toni didn’t know what it is, but he wanted to run over there and just give him the  _ biggest _ hug because the kid looked like he needed it, and Goddamn, he was still far too young and innocent to be facing Atleti– at least that was what Toni thought. He should still stay behind he scenes with Marco, Rapha, Alvaro, Dani, and the other  _ canteranos _ . Without thinking, the German grabbed Lucas’ shoulder, earning him a surprised look from his friend.

Lucas looked at him expectantly. Toni wanted to say so many things, but he only gave Lucas’ linen-sheeted shoulder a squeeze, and a slight smile, though under-layered with seriousness. “Stay safe, Lucas.”

“I promise Antonio,” Lucas grinned at him softly.

With a throttle, his legs carried him across the room and away from Toni, the door shutting soundly in the process. Toni watched him contently, and when he was finally out of sight, he turned back– only to see everyone else staring at him. “What?”

“Antonio?” Casemiro’s face broke into a mischievous smile. “Oh,  _ picha _ , you are so whipped! He even has a nickname for you already!”

The room exploded in laughter, and Toni felt heat rise onto his cheeks. 

* * *

The drive was unexpectedly long and uncomfortable, undeterred by the fact that the Metropolitano was supposed to only be half an hour away. The road was rocky and bumpy, forcing them to bounce out of their seats once in a while. It didn’t help either that Lucas had too much soda to drink back at the Bernabeu and that he really,  _ really _ needed to pee.

“Iker,” Lucas spoke up hesitantly, voice small.

“Hm?”

“Sorry, I just really need to-”

“Pee,” Iker interrupted him, glancing up from his newspaper to meet Lucas’ eyes. The captain gave him a knowing smile, to everyone else’s surprise. Usually, Iker wouldn’t be up for this kind of under-preparedness. “I couldn’t help but notice you chugging the one-liter soda bottle at the Bernabeu.”

Lucas grimaced apologetically. Iker, letting out a small chuckle, tapped Gareth lightly in the shoulder. The younger Spaniard beamed in relief. “Gareth, find the nearest gas station and stop when you can, please.”

The Welshman kept his silent demeanor and only nodded, still dedicating his full attention to the road. After what seemed like a few hellish minutes, the van halted to a stop. Lucas got off hastily, muttering an apology in the while. Marcelo succeeded him not long after, claiming “I’ve been needing to pee the whole time, I just didn’t want to say it.”

Iker, Cris, and Sergio were left in the back, the sound of roaring engines defeating the quietness.

“Do you think everything will go fine?” Cris broke the silence.

“What do you mean?” Iker questioned him, voice laced with confusion.

“The operation,” the Portuguese said. “Do you think it’ll go fine?”

“Why wouldn’t it, Cris?” Iker gestured with his hands. He was genuinely curious now.

Cris seemed hesitant at first, but the looks given by both Iker and Sergio prompted him to sigh, and say, “Don’t get me wrong, I love the kid, but,” Cris paused, looking out the window to reassure him that his colleagues were nowhere near. “Can we trust him? In everything. Physically, mentally, just in general? I mean sure, against Eibar, Alaves, Coruna, no big deal. But this is Atleti, a real threat. A rival.”

Iker’s face was turning hot. If there was one thing he disliked, it’s distrust amongst each other. A team cannot function well when doubt is present. “You know why I picked him over the other canteranos, Cris?”

Cris shook his head, seeming authentically interested in their conversation now.

“He’s shaky and nervous, but he’s noble, Cris,” Iker stated smugly. “Something the rest of us lack. Not only with the youngsters, but with some of the veterans too. Last week during their training session– he didn’t know I was scouting– I witnessed him saving Marco from a rubber bullet. I haven’t seen that sort of willingness to sacrifice ever since… Cesc.”

Sergio flinched, knowing full well that Cesc was, and always will be a bitter subject for his boyfriend. They were best friends as teenagers, inseparable. They trusted each other with their lives, and after a mission gone bad, Cesc lost his life giving it up for Iker. It gradually got better, but Iker never recovered from his death; he even got a tattoo in his memory, written in curved letters, the initials  _ C.F. _

“You can’t expect Lucas to be like him,” Cris pointed out, sullenly looking out the window. He didn’t know Cesc personally, but that guy was sort of a legend around the Bernabeu when he first arrived. 

“I’m not expecting him to be like Cesc,” Iker retorted back, curt.

“You’re putting his life at risk just by taking him with us and you know it,” Cris shrugged. “Why’d he even join the gang anyway? He seems so happy and soft, unfit for a life like this.”

“Well there’s always something deeper than just the surface isn’t there, Cris?” Iker snapped, starting to lose patience. Even Gareth could sense it, as he returned back from actively eavesdropping them to scrolling through his phone. “You ask too many questions.”

“I respect him,” Cris stated.

“Then show it.”

They sat in uncomfortable silence after that, Cris making the wise decision of not rubbing salt on the wound. Lucas and Marcelo returned countable seconds after that, the Spaniard glowing of embarrassment. “Sorry about that interruption.”

“It’s okay, Lucas,” Iker reassured him. “Better now than later, right?”

The boy snickered in response as the van drove farther away, nearing the infamous Wanda Metropolitano.


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit goes down in the Metropolitano.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry it takes me a month to update each chapter. I had a Christmas break, and wanted to write but ended up procrastinating by watching too much SIDEMEN videos. I'm back at school now with my difficult A levels, so what better way to neglect my studies by writing a 2.3k long chapter ;)?

During their journey to the Metropolitano, Sergio couldn’t help but be reminded of his childhood. The winter roads of Madrid resembled the one in Camas, where he and Rene used to spend Christmas together. It was just the both of them back then, Rene was only sixteen and he was left to his own devices taking care of twelve year old Sergio, who wasn’t the easiest to cope with.

Iker were friends with Rene, they met at a cafe Rene worked at back in Camas, but only knew Sergio from Rene’s stories. “He talked about you all the time, nene. How he was doing his very best to give you the best life you could possibly have.”

_“I’m sorry, Sergio,” Rene said gently to the younger boy standing across him. “I can’t afford candies right now, okay? But next month, I promise you. As much as you want.”_

_The younger boy pouted, crossing his arms in disappointment. “But you said that last month. And I’m really hungry, Ren.”_

_“I know you are,” Rene sighed, crouching down to level Sergio. “But the coffee shop I’m working at, they’re not earning enough money, so they can’t give me as much money as they used to.”_

_“Aren’t there any other jobs?” Sergio asked, hoping to be helpful._

_“I’m going to be honest with you and tell you that I do have one other option,” Rene said. “But it’s not meant for good people, and to survive in this life–”_

_“The most important thing is to be good,” Sergio completed his brother’s sentence, smiling contently after that. “I understand.”_

“Sergio?” Iker’s raspy voice interrupted his train of thoughts. Upon snapping back to reality, Sergio apologized hastily to his boyfriend, claiming he didn’t get enough sleep yesterday and that he was sleepy. “It’s okay. Now, we’re almost there so I want you all to listen to be very carefully.”

Iker paused, looking around the van to make sure everyone was listening. “Okay, Gareth, I want you to stay in the van as usual, and come when duty calls. Cris and Marce, you guys go in the back and try and get the documents regarding their planned attacks. Marcelo, you have the combination for the locks, am I right?”

“Yes, boss,” Marcelo replied.

“Good,” Iker nodded. “Sergio and I will do the attacking on the juniors, with the gas bombs I have packed here in my bag. Lucas, you’re with us. We’ll meet in their front entrance as soon as the heist is done, and hopefully everything will go as planned, and don’t forget to grab your pagers on the way out of the van. Understood?”

The five of them nodded, albeit not in symphony. Iker, hunching his back and resting his arms on Sergio on the left and Lucas on the right, encouragingly did the captain ritual, “ _Un, dos, tres, ¡Hala Madrid!”_

* * *

Sneaking into the Wanda Metropolitano was an easy task, for people as experienced as Marcelo and Cristiano. They had both been operating their crimes in the Bernabeu for over a decade now, Marcelo arriving two years earlier. Nonetheless, Cris was one hell of quick learner, and their knowledge in sneak attacks were exceptional.

Which was why when Felipe Luis barged into the documents’ room, they were both ready, equipped with weapons to defend, hiding behind a wall. When Felipe attempted to bash Cris’ head with a nearby lamp, Marcelo was already close to knock him out cold with a small cane sitting on the table. Smiling in relief, Cris and Marcelo performed their handshake– no one was there to watch, but it gave them power, and a sense of belonging.

The trio of Iker, Sergio and Lucas weren’t as lucky. On their way to the juniors’ room, in the midst of the hallways, they encountered Antoine Griezmann. The frenchman, who seemed to appear out of nowhere, held a gun in his hand, its mouth facing the three _Blancos_.

“Well lookie here,” he smirked, cocking his gun. “The Whites have been caught. Maybe next time you want to knock someone out… make sure they’re _dead_.”

Iker, who was originally behind Lucas, made his way up front, shielding the two boys from Griezmann. Seeing this, Griezmann huffed and rolled his eyes. “Aw, that’s so cute. Captain Casillas stepping in front of his boyfriend and… the dwarf. It’s a shame you’ll see them die anyway.”

“What’s the matter, Antoine? Your captains were never noble enough to protect you from the enemy?” Iker retorted back, hoping to stall time. He tapped Sergio twice in the lap whilst speaking. Thankfully, the Sevillan knew what he meant- _send a distress call to Cris and Marcelo_. Sergio sneaked his right hand into his pocket, praying to God that Griezmann wouldn’t be observant enough to catch it.

Unfortunately, luck wasn’t on their side. Griezmann, who looked like he was about to reply to Iker’s snarky comment, squinted his eyes at Sergio’s direction. “Hey, what are you doing with your hand? Get it out right now or I’ll–”

“Run,” Iker whispered, before lunging towards Griezmann at full speed. A commotion broke out between them. Iker’s first instinct was to punch the gun out of Griezmann’s hand, which served to be a clever idea. It didn’t get too far, but far enough so that Griezmann couldn’t reach it during a brawl. The captain then received a fist to the nose, but that didn’t cause him to stop, because Iker’s been through a lot more pain that a simple punch. In return, he threw more hits, punching Griezmann’s face onto the floor until blood was spitted out by the frenchman. He sat on Griezmann’s waist, watching Sergio and Lucas scramble to safety.

But it all happened in slow motion. As does most things in life that seems surreal. Griezmann pushed Iker away, and in that moment, he knew he messed up. Griezmann’s sayings merely seconds ago popped up in his mind, still fresh, _“next time you want to knock someone out… make sure they’re dead.”_. The realization however, came too late for Iker, because as he felt his face hit the marble floors of the Wanda Metropolitano, his ears heard the scratch of a gun being dragged against the surface.

Iker turned his body around, already expecting the worst. Griezmann was sat upright, his right hand clutching the gun. The frenchman’s pointer finger rested on the trigger, and the minute Iker locked eyes with him, a deafening shot roared throughout the halls. Griezmann flinched slightly from the pressure. The noise residue echoed amongst the walls, and for a split second, the Wanda Metropolitano was silent. It was then replaced by the sound of Griezmann’s footsteps rushing out of wherever they were.

It took Iker a few seconds to register everything that had happened. He was, to be completely honest, a little bit scared. No one had ever gotten shot under his five-year reign after Raul’s. A lot of them had gotten beaten to the pulp, and maybe stabbed, but never shot. Iker didn’t know what to do. He faced the scene of the crime, and slid towards them.

Sergio was hunching over, but there was no blood coming from him. He wasn’t the one who got shot. Sergio was safe.

But that meant– “Iker?”

Iker turned to the source of the voice. Lucas was sprawled on the floor, the marble tiles tainted with maroon liquid oozing from the boy. Iker could tell he was in pain, by the slight twitching of his eyebrows and the shallow wheezes. He whispered, “Shit.”

“Iker, what do we do?” Sergio asked him, panic wavering his voice. He glanced back and forth between Iker and Lucas, but eventually settled his gaze on Iker. However, Lucas let out an agonizing groan that was louder than his previous ones, and Sergio’s eyes snapped towards the kid. “Lucas?”

“I- I’ll call Cris and Marce, I don't think they got your... text,” Iker breathed out, reaching into his pocket to get his phone. What would usually be a mindless, one-second task doubled in time as Iker found his hand trembling, making it hard to retrieve his device. As soon as he got his hands on it, he clicked on Cristiano’s name. “Cris, can- can you come here, please? We… I… Lucas, we need some help. Just take two left turns and then go straight from the files room, or whatever room you were in.”

Cris barely said anything before hanging up. Thankfully, the Portuguese was bright and it was easy for him to decipher codes. Shifting his focus back on reality, Iker’s leadership shone through as he inhaled deeply, clearing his mind. He leaned closer towards Lucas and said soothingly, “Lucas, Griezmann shot you through the back. I’m going to turn you around to see how deeply the bullet penetrated you. It’s going to hurt, so take Sergio’s hand and squeeze it as hard as you want, okay?”

Lucas nodded, and Iker shot Sergio an apologetic look. Sergio being the person he was, shook it off and took Lucas’ uninjured hand, clutching it with both of his. Iker silently apologized to Lucas as he lifted his right shoulder, earning him pained whimpers from Lucas. It revealed a dark wound, and the bullet’s shiny shell was nowhere in sight. Iker cursed under his breath, looking up to Sergio. He shook his head, a worried look on his face. Iker didn’t want to say it out loud, but it didn’t look good.

Thankfully, Cris and Marcelo appeared on their sight, jogging towards them. Cris cringed audibly upon seeing the wound, and Marcelo pursed his lips, his eyes showing pity. “What happened?”

Before answering the Brazilian, Iker turned Lucas over again, then took off his own sweater. He handed it to Sergio, instructing him to apply pressure on the wound. Sergio nodded comprehensively, and did what he was told to do. The Sevillan was worried for his friend- beads of sweat were running down his forehead, mixing with the blood. He briefly prayed to the gods above, hoping they would show sympathy to the kid. He was still too young.

“Griezmann shot him,” Iker replied curtly. He looked at Lucas helplessly, before getting up from his sitting position. “Sergio, don’t take your hands off that wound. Cris, you help me carry him out of this damn place. Marcelo, stay behind us in case one of the guys get to us. Griezmann escaped so he might’ve warned the others. It’s hard, but we have to move _fast_ if we want him to survive. Come on.”

As predicted, the journey to their van was difficult. Lucas was surprisingly heavy for a boy his size, and his occasional moans of pain didn’t help either. Iker could feel his heart break more and more with every cry. It took a lot to bite down the tears forming in the back of his eyes, but he was the mighty Iker Casillas, so strength was the mask he chose to put on.

The van arrived in the matter of seconds, and Gareth stepped out of his driver’s seat, eyebrows ceased upon seeing Lucas injured. He opened his mouth to say something, but as fast as light, closed it back again. The Welshman knew it wasn’t the right time to question, so he went to action. He helped the others load Lucas in the back of the van.

“Cris, we need more space here at the back for Lucas, so you’re going to have to take the seat next to Gareth,” Iker instructed, looking into Cris’ hazel eyes sternly. The Portuguese nodded without saying anything, and made his way towards the shotgun.

The Atletico boys got to them as soon as the van drove away from the Metropolitano, the sound of bullets hitting metal prominent in their ears. They just had to thank time for being so kind to them.

* * *

The only thing Iker could think of during the drive to the Bernabeu was Toni. He imagined himself in the German’s shoes, and put Sergio in Lucas’ position. Hell would break loose. Iker would freak the _fuck_ out. So he wouldn’t blame Toni if he wanted to yell and berate Iker’s leadership. He had promised to keep the kid safe after all.

He failed.

“Shit, Lucas,” Sergio’s alarmed voice returned him to reality. He was cupping the younger boy’s cheeks, slapping it slightly. Lucas didn’t react, and his eyes were completely shut by then. Iker felt his heart dropped as his mind put together the puzzle pieces. He could only watch in concern as Sergio frantically rubbed Lucas’ neck, searching for a pulse. “Iker, I can’t find it.”

“He’s not–” Iker stopped himself, moving away Sergio’s hand as he took the medical investigating upon himself. He wasn’t going to die, it was too soon for him. Iker breathed a short-lived sigh of relief when he felt the faint but fast beat brush against his fingers. “It’s still there, but barely. I… I don’t know how to get him to wake up, Sergio.”

“We can’t lose him, Iker,” Sergio told him as if he didn’t know it, eyes wide with sadness. “He’s still too young, and this is just the beginning for him. Besides, Toni would kill you with his own hands if he doesn’t make it out of here.”

Iker couldn’t find the energy to laugh, so instead he gave Sergio a reassuring smile. He unconsciously directed his attention towards Lucas again. He could now see the rise and fall off his chest through his wrapped shoulder. By not being awake Iker would think that the pain would stop at least momentarily, but that did not seem to be the case as Lucas’ eyebrows were stitched inwards, his pale face looking agitated.

Iker sighed in dismay. How could he face his team and still be seen as a proper leader after this?


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang returns.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's almost 12 am here and i have school :( i'm sorry if there are any mistakes. this took me more than a month to complete and i worked hard on this, so if you see any flaws PLEASE DO point them out since it will help me a lot in the future. constructive criticism is allowed and will be taken into serious consideration.
> 
> thank you :') and i hope you do enjoy this
> 
> * i will edit this in the future

They rushed into the Bernabeu, panicked and frenzied. The white wooden doors, unsinning, didn’t get the chance to be treated gently, as Marcelo pushed through it roughly, the sound of broken mahogany echoing throughout the Bernabeu. His eyes were alarmingly wide, and it ran around the room crazily, searching. It stopped when he spotted Isco and Luka, who were previously chatting with each other about their newest doctoral equipments, but were now staring up at Marcelo confusedly. “You! Both of you! Quick, out!”

The two doctors rushed outside along with Marcelo through instinct. They were used to following orders, being medical authorities. In seconds, the rest of the squad were piling up in front of the colossal doors. Toni, who didn’t fancy himself as a man to pry, stayed behind, only catching slight glimpses here and then.

“Get out of the way!” Iker’s yell resonated loudly. Shuffles of shoes were then heard, and as fast as they crowded the door, it was empty again. Toni finally had a clear vision, but after seeing the sight before him, he wished the squad never parted. It triggered a sense of reaction in his stomach. The bile rose up to his throat. He felt light-headed.

If it had been anyone else, Toni wouldn’t have had a big reaction. Maybe a pang of pity in his heart, accompanied by worry. He would’ve followed the gurney with his eyes, but he would still stay in the background, not wanting to garner much attention. He would then check in on them after everything’s settled with Isco and Luka, asking them a few run-of-the-mill questions about how they’re doing, are they feeling better.

But it wasn’t  _ just _ anyone else. It was Lucas, on the gurney, blood all over him. He wasn’t awake. His eyes were closed. He wasn’t smiling like he always did. Before Toni could act upon his reflexes and run towards them, Marco held his shoulder back, his own worried eyes fixated on the scene. Toni struggled, flailing his arms around. “Let me go!”

“No!” Marco said harshly, pushing him down to the ground. Toni looked up at him in shock. Marco gaped at him with an equally surprised look. He reached his hand out for Toni to take apologizing, eyebrows stitched in guilt. “I– I’m sorry! It’s just… you’re usually so… powerful! Strong!”

Toni didn’t bother responding to him, running in the direction of Lucas as soon as he was back up on his feet. Marco’s eyes followed him desperately as he called out his name, but Toni didn’t care. He needed to get to him. 

He needed to know if he was okay.

He found them in the medical wing as expected. They were all crowding his body, Isco attaching wires and heart monitors on it, while Luka cleaned up the blood with Sergio and Cristiano’s help. Gareth and Marcelo were in the corner, the Brazilian chewing on his fingers while Gareth watched, breathing heavily. Toni didn’t realize when Iker approached him, a sorrowful look on his face. The captain placed his hand on Toni’s shoulder, staring at him with glassy eyes. “I’m sorry, Toni.”

“It’s not–” Toni gulped. Isco was placing an oxygen mask over his face, and Toni was brought back to his childhood, in his father’s hospital room. The nurses, they were doing the same exact thing years ago in another country. He didn’t survive. Toni was fourteen then. Experiencing the loss of someone important to him again wasn’t on his bucket list. “It’s not your fault.”

Iker only shook his head in response, looking down at the floor. “It was, though. I should’ve made sure that son of a bitch was dead before I checked on them. God, I’m the– I don’t deserve to captain this gang!”

“Don’t say that,” Toni rubbed Iker’s arms. It dropped down as quick as lightning though, Toni realizing he didn’t like physical touch. “What… what happened anyway?”

“Griezmann,” Iker glared to the nothingness behind him, swallowing hard. “He found us in the hallways. I got Griezmann off his feet and I sent them away, but I underestimated him, Griezmann. I turned around too quickly, and before I know it…  _ bang _ .”

Toni was about to reply, but a long, beeping noise that hurt his ears filled the room. His heart dropped, and his feet were frozen. It came from Lucas’ heart monitor. Isco and Luka scrummaged through their equipments, the clangs of metal against metal almost overshadowing the screech. After what seemed like hours, they finally got their hands on the defibrillator. 

“Come on, Lucas,” Isco whispered to himself as the machines contacted his bare skin. Lucas’ body arched, but nothing. The beeping was still there. Isco swore under his breath, before shutting his eyes and silently counting. He tried again. The same thing happened. Still nothing. Gritting his teeth, Isco was determined to try it for the third time. In medical school, he was taught to never overuse the defibrillator, but he just couldn’t lose his brother. “Third time’s a charm.”

It seemed as if Isco’s words brought luck, because slowly, the beeping came back to normal. Everyone in the room let out a collective sigh of relief, everything they were talking about forgotten. 

As long as he was still alive and breathing.

–––––––

For someone who was out cold, Lucas had a lot of visitors. Person after person flooded their way into his room. Dani, Nacho, Isco, Marco, Theo, and Alvaro were first, being Lucas’ closest friends. They stroked his hair and held his hand, whispering words of comfort. Toni thought they were stupid. He couldn’t hear them, why were they talking to him?

The older ones were next– Cris, Marcelo, Gareth, Luka, Karim, Rapha, Casemiro. They were a little bit more mature, a little bit more closed off. Slight touches here and there, silent prayers as well. After a few minutes in reticence, they exited the room.

Iker entered with Sergio, his face still scrunched up in contrite. Toni wanted to tell Iker that it was going to be alright, but he never fancied himself as someone who had a lot of wisdom, or a say in what the future holds, so he stilled, leaving Iker to be swallowed whole by his guilt. Sergio was stiff and unmoving beside him, not daring to do anything. He was either intimidated by Iker (which was rarer than a blue moon), or had the same guilt inside him– he just hid it better.

Toni liked to think it was the former.

“Can I talk to you right now?” Iker caught his shoulder just as Sergio stepped out the door. “In private.”

Toni fought with all of his will to not say no and reject him, because Toni hadn’t had a moment to share with Lucas alone yet. He wanted to be with Lucas and only Lucas, he wanted to be there and watch over him with no one else around. He wanted some peaceful, intimate time, which he never got because everyone barged in the room and left no space for him.

But the desperate pleading in Iker’s eyes deterred the fight. He nodded.

–––––––

“First of all, Toni, I want to apologize,” Iker started. Before Toni could say anything, Iker held his pointer finger up, prompting the German to stay quiet. “It’s my fault, my responsibility, and I know it. I was careless, and now one of my men is fatally injured. If Raul were still here he would tell me that this is all an unacceptable behavior for a leader. But he’s not, and he cruelly bestowed this responsibility upon me. It’s hard, Toni, it is. Now that I have apologized, I want you to listen to me very carefully for what I have to say in the next few minutes, because I’m not talking to you as your captain, I’m talking to you as your  _ friend _ .”

Toni gawked at him, lost at what to do. When Iker was in his captain mode, it was easy to respond- just a couple of nods and murmurs of understanding. As a separate human being with a mind of his own, with emotions in his heart and thoughts in his mind, Toni didn’t know how to react. Sergio really should publish a book called ‘How To Act Towards Iker Casillas As A Human Being’. “O-okay.”

“When he wakes up,” Iker put emphasis on the first word. “I want you to tell him that you love him. I don’t want you to tell me I’m wrong and you’re not in love with him because I’m not, and you are. I am not an idiot, clearly. Everyone can see that, from careless Isco to preserving Karim. Somehow, our little friend has no idea, he is oblivious. Toni, I almost lost Sergio years ago under Raul. I never got the chance to tell him how I feel and he went on a suicide mission not knowing I was waiting for him to come home. Came back with deathly injuries and God, the fact that he did not want to fight to survive  _ killed _ me. Thankfully, I did not lose Sergio, and he is the best thing in my life right now. But now that the same thing has happened to you, I want you to do what I did and  _ just _ tell him. Don’t overthink, let your heart do the speaking.”

If a few months– no, weeks– ago you told Toni he would be getting love advices from  _ the _ Iker Casillas, he’d glare at you with his icy blue eyes and walk away. However, this was the situation. “That’s… that’s a lot to take in.”

“I know,” Iker said, looking incredibly proud of himself. “I am not exactly Doctor Love here, Sergio prides himself in that, but I just hate seeing any of my men unhappy. I cannot afford to have that either, since the Barca scheme is so close–”

“You’re  _ really _ thinking about that right now?” Toni hindered Iker, his voice dominating over the captain’s. The irritation bubbled in him quite quickly– just several seconds ago he felt sentimental and poignant, but the fact that Iker could think about Barcelona at a time like this agitated him.

“I am the captain of one of the biggest gangs in Spain about to lead my troops to quite possibly the biggest war our world has seen,” Iker stated rigidly. “I care for my men, Toni, you know that. But I still need to focus, I still need to do my job. Now, you play a vital role in the possible defeat of Barcelona, so I need you to come with us next month.”

“No way,” Toni shook his head, unconsciously regarding the door to Lucas’ room, bringing it into the spotlight. “I can’t leave him alone.”

“He will not be alone,” Iker confirmed. “Sergio requested to me personally that he wants off from this mission. He will be staying here at the Bernabeu, taking care of Lucas. You know he cares a lot about him, they are basically best friends. You don’t have to worry about Lucas, Toni. Don’t forget that  _ you _ have a job to do as well.”

Toni wanted to oblige, but the commanding gaze Iker gave was enough to remind him who put his heart and soul into rebuilding the Madrid left crippled and damaged long ago. His battle scars weren’t only present physically, but one good look at him and Toni can see the boy who was forced to grow up too soon for his own good, who had great responsibility dumped on his hand abruptly at a young age, who never got the chance to choose his own path. His life was scripted, programmed, calculated without his consent, or willingness.

He saw the man who was predestined to rule Madrid.


	6. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY SO LISTEN IT IS LITERALLY 2:28 AM RIGHT NOW WHEN I AM WRITING THIS SO MY MIND'S A LITTLE BIT HAZY. THIS CHAPTER WILL DEFINITELY BE EDITED BY ME IN THE NEAR FUTURE. THE REASON WHY I POSTED THIS IS BECAUSE I HAVE AN EXAM ON THURSDAY, AND I HAVE TO START REVISING TOMORROW (TODAY) AND I DON'T WANT THIS FIC TO LINGER IN THE BACK OF MY MIND. I DON'T WANT TO THINK ABOUT IT.
> 
> So I decided to finish the fifth chapter off before tomorrow. I'm sorry it takes me a month to upload a chapter, but I am an expert in procrastination. I'm not even going to come up with some bullshit excuse about being busy or unavailable, because I wasn't. I was just procrastinating.
> 
> Oh and important!! I planned this fic waaaay back in July and originally this was a Seriker fic. Like, I had my mind set into making it about Seriker, being the Seriker hoe and Sergio slut I am. HOWEVER! circumstances in November has made me fallen hopelessly in love with L*cas V*zquez so this shit's going to be mainly Vazkroos oof. Don't worry tho, certain events coming shortly in the next chapter or two will shift the focus heavily on Seriker, my OG papas.
> 
> Anyway... I hope you get through reading this okay. It's very shite at the now but I promise I'll return and revise this shit.

Dani was sat on a steel chair in Lucas’ room, sipping his expensive tea and reading the heavy literature book his boyfriend gave him as a gift. It was his turn to look over Lucas, and to be honest, he didn’t mind it one bit- a break from all the chaos of being in a gang is always welcomed with an open arm. His eyes were grazed over some odd, sophisticated word for the second time when he heard shuffling coming from Lucas’ bed– abandoning the overly-complicated word, he looked up dramatically, and gasped in the same manner when he saw that Lucas’ eyes were partially opened, trying his best to focus on Dani’s own ones. In a splurge of panic, he threw the two items in his hand onto the table beside him in panic, the ceramic mug colliding with the tough, cold ones of the Bernabeu’s, spilling its liquid all over the place. “Lucas?”

The man before him struggled in response, his free hand hassling and tugging on the mask placed over his face, whining muffledly. Having no medical degree nor experience whatsoever, Dani acted on his instincts, which was to grab Lucas’ restless hand with both of his, gripping it with his life. Dani didn’t even think about whether or not it might’ve hurt, his mind preoccupied preventing Lucas from doing any further damage. His spur-of-the-moment action didn’t prove to be viable, as Lucas still wouldn’t stay motionless. Feeling helpless, he took a deep breath before yelling Isco and Luka’s name as loud, and as quickly as he could.

He turned to Lucas again, pausing his calls to comfort his friend. Lucas looked up at him with genuine fear painted in his eyes. Six years he had been in the gang business, the only people who had that kind of despair in their eyes were the ones of his enemies’- who he frankly did not give two shits about. But this was different, because Lucas was his friend, someone he had grown incredibly close with over the past years. Choking, he managed to get a few words out. “Hey, calm down. I’m here. I- it’s okay, Luqui. God, I… we… don’t close your eyes again, please. Please stay awake, Isco’s coming. Please.”

Despite all his efforts, Lucas did not seem like he heard anything that came out of Dani’s mouth, him busy thrashing around and fighting against Dani. Desperate, he called out to Isco and Luka again, his chest feeling like a drum his heart relentlessly beat on. He made a mental note to himself: request Iker a bell in the hospital wing for Isco and Luka.

After torturous minutes, Isco and Luka finally rushed in, mindlessly pushing Dani away and immediately to Lucas’ bedside, ready to tend him. Dani watched everything unravel. Isco, taking the mask off his face and handing it over to Luka, his eyes fixated on Lucas. He then proceeded to cradle Lucas’ cheek in his right hand gently.

“Lucas, don’t panic,” he commanded. “What do you remember before waking up?”

It took Lucas a couple of seconds and a series of coughs, clearing up his throat, to get his voice back. Even then, it was hoarse and rough- but Dani, being the sensitive person that he was, already felt tears threatening to pour out on the back of his eyes hearing his voice. It had been too long. “I- I don’t know. I remember my back hurting, and then… Iker and Marcelo, then I’m suddenly in a moving object and Sergio’s asking me to stay awake. But I don’t know why.”

“Trauma,” Isco established hushedly to Luka, who nodded in understanding and casted his look of pity. Dani’s heart did a little jump when that word came out. Trauma wasn’t particularly a word he associated happy memories with. Thankfully Dani was able to distract himself before his mind ventured any further into the memories of his forgotten childhood. “Nothing else, Lucas?”

He shook his head.

“Do you want to know?” Isco asked him, careful to ask for his approval. When he nodded soundly without hesitance, Isco started. “Around a week and a half ago during the scheme against Atleti… do you remember anything from that?”

Again, Lucas shook his head.

“Well, during that scheme Griezmann got you in the back. With a gun. Fortunately it was a handgun, nothing too… you know. That’s what the pain you feel in your back was. Iker and Sergio were the first ones to get to you, because you were tasked with them. Iker told me he checked on you but the bullet was lodged in your back, thus keeping all the blood inside, when it should be flowing out. It could’ve clotted your whole bloodstream so he made the right call of carrying you immediately to the van. With Marcelo’s help, that’s why you saw them. When they got you safely back in the van, they… they lost you, and that is why Sergio asked you to stay awake. That was the last event that occurred to you before you slipped.”

Lucas stared blankly at Isco, mouth parted slightly. When he had registered everything that had happened, the monitor started beeping wildly again, to which Luka evidentially reacted quickly to. With swift moves, he managed to swoop the syringe and needle, flicking them to Isco’s hand before the Spaniard injected it in Lucas’ system within seconds.

Perhaps telling someone who just got out of a coma the story about how they almost died wasn’t the smartest thing Isco had done in his life. He grimaced, though in relief, upon seeing Lucas’ hand drop from his chest on to the bed with a soft thud, eyes beginning to flutter shut again.

The beeping became normal.

“He’s waking up, right?” Dani’s voice perched from the doorway, worriedly glancing over. Isco almost forgot he was there.

He nodded. “In a few seconds. He’s just taking a little power nap. You should probably tell the others that he woke up, I’m sure they would all love to pay him a little visit when he wakes up shortly after.”

Isco did not get the chance to finish his sentence, Dani already dashing out the double doors in the matter of seconds. Sighing, Isco placed the syringe on the steel metal table. He took Lucas’ hand and grasped it in his own, turning to Luka. “We almost lost him again. If that EKG went over we would’ve lost him.”

Luka returned his look, shaking his head slightly. “He’s a fighter.”

–––––––

As expected, Toni was the first to dart into Lucas’ room, merely seconds after Dani had told him the news, followed by Iker, Sergio, and eventually the rest of the squad. Luka had to tell them to back off for a little while, that they shouldn’t overwhelm him. He made way for Toni.

“Lucas,” Toni breathed out, a content smile on his face. Lucas’ face lit up, equipped with the same smile. When he reached Lucas’ bedside, he gave him a little side hug, only squeezing him delicately. Frankly, he was scared he would break him. “How- how are you?”

“I feel like crap,” Lucas replied. Toni thought that it was amazing he still had the humor in him, that he still managed to take it lightheartedly. “But overall, it’s great to be awake and moving about. Well, technically not  _ yet _ for the latter but soon!”

“Soon,” Toni echoed. He then turned to the doorway, signalling all of the others to come in– and they did, one by one, greeting Lucas with their individual mannerism. “Everyone’s here.”

“I can see that,” Lucas’ lips curled upwards. Truthfully he was tired, but everyone made the effort to see him he didn’t have the heart to tell them that.

“You scared us, Lucas,” Marcelo joked, lightly punching him. 

“Yeah,” Sergio agreed, trailing behind Marcelo. “Don’t ever do that again, understand?”

Chuckling, Lucas nodded in mock agreement, before his eyes set in Iker’s direction. Slowly, he started. “Hey, Iker. I’m- I’m sorry for screwing this up.”

“Don’t apologize,” Iker shook his head, arms crossed. “Never. It wasn’t your fault, kid. You were at the wrong place in the wrong time. It could’ve been Sergio. I was careless with Griezmann.”

The gang exchanged words, laughter, jokes. As they always did. It was ironic, to see such a notorious gang like Real Madrid, known for their brutality and precision, showing positive emotions. Sometimes it was forgotten that they were still normal people, with stories. Usually tortured, but they had their share of story to tell, everyone did. There was a reason that pushed them into joining Real Madrid, even from the more sensitive ones of the group- Lucas, Dani, Luka, Raphael. They all had reasons.

From the corner of his eye, Toni could see Iker shooting him a look, reminding him of the talk they had days ago. Toni tried his best to ignore him, going as far as to conversing with Marco and Raphael, people he never took the time to know outside of his job. Toni just wasn’t ready. It all seemed so easy before this, he had it all all mapped out. But one look at his face and everything he’s planned to say for days perished, Toni finding the unusually quick beating of his heart distracting.

Eventually Iker gave up, retorting back to Sergio. Toni mentally sighed in relief. He knew he had to talk about it someday, because honestly his unspoken feelings were killing him, eating him from the inside, but… someday just wasn’t today.

Maybe next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lololol i'm so sorry if it's *that* bad i finished everything in less than thirty minutes and i started at like,,, 1:50 am. i'm sorry!! for being like this but i hope you stay with me :)))


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